Once upon a time, I wanted to travel to Pakistan as a tourist. While I was going around and sightseeing in that, a small girl came to me and asked for money.
I asked where she is from. The small girl replied slowly that she is from Afghanistan. Then I asked does she go to school. She said no. “Our home was in Kabul,” she said. “Our home was hit by a rocket. All of my family members lost their life, and I was the only one who survived because I was outside in that time. Later, a relative of mine took me to his home, but after a while he got some money from an old man and instead he forced me to marry him.”
"I was a weak girl and I was not able to do anything. So, I had to accept that old man. Now I am begging because I have to pay for his expense. I am always prying that no Muslim gets my fate," she said.
The object of this blog began as a display of a varied amount of writings, scribblings and rantings that can be easily analysed by technology today to present the users with a clearer picture of the state of their minds, based on tests run on their input and their uses of the technology we are advocating with www.projectbrainsaver.com
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Small kid | Afghan Youth Voices Festival
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